Soothing the Savage Beast

I gets the road rage.

Last year, my commute consistently took thirty minutes. Fast forward a year later, and it's suddenly rocketed up to forty-five minutes, sometimes up to an hour if people are driving especially stupid. In the course of driving to work each morning and afternoon, I am cut off, flipped off, and run off the road on a daily basis. Occasionally, I enter my zen state and smile benignly at these offenders. Rarely though. More often than not, I trade arm gestures and familial epithets and generously mix in some colorful adjectives that would likely make an Iraqi veteran blush, if not grab paper and pencil to take notes.

Lately though, I've been able to counteract the consequences of my fellow Americans' driving inadequacies with music. For some strange reason, blasting The Outsider by A Perfect Circle assuages all driving slights against me. It's a true zen state, not just me staring blankly at the tail end of a car that just magically appeared in front of me via a sharp tug of the steering wheel and total lack of concern for anyone's vehicular chassis integrity.

It's not that it's just a good, loud, throbbing song; I've got plenty of those in my music library and they don't seem to stop me from shutting the stereo off so I can better berate my neighboring driver and remind him how promiscuous his mother is. I think it just happens to be that rare song that, even though it blasts loudly, somehow calms me.

Even though I can't adequately explain it's affect on me, I'm going with it. I keep Thirteenth Step handy with me at all times and the second I hear a blaring horn, even one not directed at me, I pop it in and tap to track seven.

God help me if my commute gets longer still.